


Friendly Competition

by ghostlingerie



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fun, How Do I Tag, Laser Tag, M/M, Vacation, the team takes a fun break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlingerie/pseuds/ghostlingerie
Summary: This was silly. Unprofessional, even. Months ago, Hanzo would’ve called it as such (and it was), but he’s learned to enjoy himself, every now and then. Be more lively.By lively, he certainly didn’t mean ‘play laser tag with some of the finest agents in the world’.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	Friendly Competition

**Author's Note:**

> no beta for this one, we die like men
> 
> hope you enjoy! :)

“Should be fun, right?” Genji quips to Hanzo, beaming all the while.

This was the last thing said to Hanzo an hour ago, that wasn’t a command, a shriek, or a warning. Beams of light showered the wall above him as he ran, catching a glimpse of Mei using Reinhardt as a human shield. The sounds of guns being fired cease at once as soon as Mei and Reinhardt collapse to the ground, a yelp coming out of Mei’s mouth as they do.

“We concede, we concede!” Laughter rumbles from his chest as he stands up slowly, helping Mei to her feet. The two of them begin to leave the arena, taking off their vests as they head towards the spectator’s area. “Good luck! We’ll cheer all of you on.” Hanzo sees a large door in front of them slide open and close, as they cross to the other side. 

This was silly. Unprofessional, even. Months ago, Hanzo would’ve called it as such (and it was), but he’s learned to enjoy himself, every now and then. Be more lively.

By lively, he certainly didn’t mean ‘play laser tag with some of the finest agents in the world’. He pants, looking left and right, trying to find a way to get out of his opponent’s line of sight, Pharah. She was great at making predetermined shots, even more so using guns that hit it’s target immediately. She’d also been pursuing him for the past minute or so, shooting at things near him, as if to taunt.

“Where are you, Shimada? Make yourself known, I’ll make it quick,” Pharah yells, mirth apparent in her voice. Running out of options, Hanzo swiftly dashes to his left. He turns his gaze toward his attacker, a grin spreading on her face. The tapping of his feet on the ground is all he hears before it’s encompassed by a short “pew”.

Pharah’s amused face turns into one of dawning dismay as she turns around. They both see a smiling woman leaning towards her at the same time. Hanzo continues to run, looking forward, not bothering to see Angela smugly greet Pharah. He abruptly stops, only to confirm she died when he hears fading footsteps, followed by the hissing of the door opening and closing again.

Mercy was second in the leaderboard, regarding who has the most kills. It came as a surprise to him and a few others in her skill. With the way she coasted through the game, removing people from the game with finesse, he would’ve mistaken her for doing this full time. Hanzo’s ears perk up as he hears her yawn. “It’s been a while, Hanzo.” 

He stays where he is, opting not to do anything. Perhaps she wanted to coax him out of where he was. Then again, Hanzo knew that she knew that he wasn’t dumb. 

“It’s an outrageous proposition, but,” she says, walking in a circle, “I suggest we team up.” No way that wasn’t a ruse. For the past hour, she had been playing individually, immediately shooting anyone that wasn’t herself. 

“You know full well who’s in first place. Despite my ability, I doubt I’ll be able to take him down alone.” Now, this, he knew was almost true. Hanzo turns around the gun in his hand, pondering what decision to make. They’re both agile, they’re both smart. One of the few advantages he knows he has is that Mercy isn’t entirely sure where his location is. If he plays his cards right, he could whittle the remaining people down to two.

He chooses to take his chances. Gripping his gun, he lifts it parallel to his eye, and begins to silently walk. As he walks, the wall moves out of his sight, and Mercy is slowly revealed to be aiming down different sights, except for where he was. 

The placeholders for buildings glowed brightly, the neon reflecting on his face as he prepares to shoot. Angela seems to move in a different manner compared to her movement prior. She must know where he is.

Hanzo shoots immediately, the sound of two guns being shot apparent in the room. His eyebrows lift as she turns her back towards him, seemingly aiming towards the opposite direction and aiming there. From behind, he sees her vest turn a bright red, as her arms relax.

“Ah, too bad. At least I lasted as long as I did. Admittedly, it’s pretty difficult to look at two places.” She laughs softly. “May the best man win.” 

Best man?

Mercy turns and walks forward, humming all the while. Hanzo moves his gaze upward, and his gun down. A partly concealed red flannel and stetson come into view, as he stands straight up.

“Jesse McCree,” he says, a smirk coming unto his face.

“Hanzo Shimada,” McCree replies, head low, and gun surprisingly not drawn.

“Don’t you think it’s a little precarious not to have your gun out?” Hanzo asks, slowly stepping forward. Each step contained caution, making sure that McCree hadn’t set up anything prior. His eyes stayed locked on his head.

“Well,” Jesse says, following Hanzo’s actions, “I do enjoy a little bit of a challenge myself.”

The arena stays almost silent, both of them not having noticed Mercy leave earlier. Lights continue to cover the agents, the distance between them decreasing. Hanzo could hear his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. He attempts to recall that this entire activity is merely trivial. Even as sweat trickles down his cheek, the corners of his mouth twitch. This was really entertaining, and thrilling.

They both stop advancing when they’re five steps away from each other. “It seems that we’re at a standstill,” Jesse says. His gun still remains undrawn.

“I think it’s awfully generous of you to allow me to win so easily,” Hanzo retorts. 

McCree lifts his head, sporting a smug look. “If that’s the case, then I believe you’re as generous as I am, seeing as you hadn’t shot me yet.”

“That’s only because I’m being vigilant. I could take the shot any time I’d like.” Hanzo fiddles with the trigger, eyebrows furrowing. He lifts the gun.

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, darling. Still, that’s real sweet of you not to shoot the one you love.” The way McCree says that in a honeyed voice, accompanied by his equally sweet eyes, tempts Hanzo to go into a trance. He blinks, cheeks just barely heating up.

Silence resides between the two of them, tension weaving its way through the two men. Nothing and no one moves, except for each person breathing softly. McCree breathes steadily, hand still near but not touching the gun next to his hip. Hanzo’s breath trembles just barely. He tells himself that he’s just acting like this because he’s being mindful. Not because Jesse had managed to charm him. Not because his comments kept him flustered.

The silence is broken when the familiar sound of two shots rings in his ear. Hanzo forces his eyes to drag down to McCree’s chest. 

A smile spreads on his face as he sees red flashing across the vest. He lifts a hand near his own vest, green being reflected on his hand.

Hanzo grips the gun as he lowers it, moving his eyes towards McCree’s arm. It’s lifted, revealing a section of his belt and his flesh hand. A gun is held inside his hand, pointed toward Hanzo’s vest.

“I just won,” Hanzo says under his breath. McCree places the gun on the ground, and sighs. “Yeah, you sure did. Congratulations,” he says, crossing his arms. Despite the disappointment in his voice, a grin is plastered on his face. Hanzo could see that the grin was one of genuine joy and pride.

“Won’t you look at that,” he says, the smile on Hanzo’s face becoming more sly, “I beat Jesse McCree in a standoff.” He moves forward, linking a finger around the strap of the vest on McCree’s shoulder.

“That’s only ‘cause I hadn’t drawn my gun.” Jesse loops an arm around Hanzo’s waist. “Still counts,” Hanzo replies, laughing as he leans forward. He closes his eyes as they close the distance between their lips. The kiss was sweet, as brief as it was. Even though McCree hadn’t taken out a cigar recently, Hanzo could barely taste smoke on his lips. He melted in Jesse’s arms.

They separate, both smiles being cleaned of anything but sincerity and affection. Hanzo’s cheeks flush as they hear the faint sound of a door hissing open and the cheers of their peers.

“Raise your glasses for Hanzo, the champion of laser tag! Congratulations again, sugar.” McCree’s declaration is followed by his friends’ optimism, glasses clinking, as he takes a seat.

He wraps an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders, tracing circles on his arm. As he drinks, Tracer reaches over to pat his shoulder. “That was an entertaining game, Jesse! At least you died in a way more dignified manner compared to how I did.” She says that last bit with a noticeable grumble. “We only agreed to immediately hunt you down before shooting each other because you win everytime we do things like this,” Genji replies. “It still isn’t fair!” she protests.

Genji sighs, and tilts his glass toward Hanzo, who happens to be across from him. “Well done, anija. Didn’t know you’d take the game so seriously.” McCree smiles behind his glass as he sees Hanzo turn away from his brother, and give a small pout. “I wasn’t. I just exerted as much effort as anyone would in such an irrelevant game.” The pout melts into a soft smile, and he returns his gaze to Genji. “But thanks.”

Hanzo gives an awkward cough, and starts to move away from the table, legs shifting under it. “I’ll be excusing myself.” McCree hums as he lifts his arm, which allows his boyfriend to stand. The steps he takes toward the restroom is drowned out from the general noise that rings throughout the restaurant.

“An interesting game, was it not?” Jesse turns his head to his right, seeing Angela leaning on her elbows and swirling a small bottle. “Mhm,” he answers, lowering the glass onto the table. 

“Although I’d like to ask,” she says, looking at him, “Why would you deliberately shoot late?” McCree gives her an inquisitive look. “I don’t know what you mean.”

A laugh escapes her mouth, shaking her head. “You raised your gun sooner than he got halfway to pulling the trigger. The opportunity to win the game was right there, Jesse.” She stops swirling the whiskey, and rubs her fingers together, the perspiration from the glass on them. “Was it for love? It was just for fun, granted. Still, an answer would be nice.”

Jesse sighs and runs a cold hand through his hair, positively messing it. “Seeing him all embarrassed and determined like that can only do so much to a man, Angie. Besides,” he leans back on his seat, “I wanted to make the day memorable. Rare to see him this openly happy with the team. You should’ve seen the look on him when he realised he won in person, just a beautiful sight.” 

Mercy hums, satisfied with McCree’s explanation. He waves to Hanzo, him closing the restroom door behind him. Gesturing toward the space next to him, Hanzo settles next to him, accepting the embrace that comes upon him. The rest of the night goes on smoothly, filled with laughter, intoxication, and overall liveliness, staying memorable in everyone's minds.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are appreciated~


End file.
